


Where You Are, I Will Be

by shions_heart



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 10:18:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6191185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart/pseuds/shions_heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Kuroo comes home stressed out and upset, Kenma takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where You Are, I Will Be

**Author's Note:**

> I just . . . needed this.

Kenma can tell when Kuroo's had a rough day. His smiles aren't as bright, he's quieter, tends to close the door to his room before Kenma can follow him into it. He never likes Kenma to see him in such a state, he knows it upsets him, but Kenma wishes he could see that it's okay, that he wants to help however he can, even though he's never sure what to say.

Kuroo's classes always get out later than Kenma's, so Kenma is generally home alone for a few hours before Kuroo gets back to the apartment. Usually he'll bring home food if he doesn't want to cook, or he'll make something for them both. Kenma always tells himself he's going to return the favor someday, but when the time comes he's always forgotten. He spends his time after homework playing his games, and he doesn't notice the time passing until Kuroo's keys are in the lock, and he's opening the door.

Tonight Kenma glances up at the sound, remembering, again, that he'd wanted to start some ramen and that, again, he'd forgotten. He's about to apologize, turning around on the couch and resting his arms on the back of it, but as Kuroo slips out of his shoes, Kenma notices the look on his face.

He's not exactly frowning, but his features aren't relaxed either. His hair seems to droop, and he ruffles it away from his face absently, staring at his empty hands then and cursing softly.

"Kuro . . ."

"I forgot the damn takeout," Kuroo mutters, clenching his teeth. "Idiot."

Kenma sits up on his knees, clenching the back cushions of the couch with his hands. "Kuro . . ."

Kuroo looks over at him with a sigh. "Sorry, Kenma. Have you eaten? No, fuck, of course not. You never eat." He runs his hand through his hair again with a grimace.

Kenma bites his lip. "It's okay--"

"It's _not_ okay. You need to eat. I was supposed to bring dinner, but I forgot. This professor's been riding my ass about this stupid paper, and we're coming up on a tournament so the coach is working us to the bone, and then Bokuto's car broke down, and I couldn't figure out what was wrong with it and I just . . . I forgot. I'm sorry. I'll make you something."

He drops his bag by the door, walking briskly to the kitchen, every movement stiff. Kenma quickly gets off the couch, Kuroo's shirt that he's wearing slipping down one shoulder. He adjusts it absently, following Kuroo and grabbing the edge of his sleeve before he can reach the fridge.

"Kuro, I can make dinner. It's okay."

Kuroo keeps his head bowed, reaching to grab the edge of the counter. He squeezes it tightly, knuckles turning white, and Kenma releases his sleeve to slowly run his hand down Kuroo's bicep to his elbow and forearm, before resting his palm over the back of Kuroo's hand. He strokes the tense veins with his thumb gently, stepping closer to press a tiny kiss against Kuroo's shoulder.

"It's okay."

Kuroo pulls away, turning from the counter and not looking Kenma in the eye, as he passes him. "I'm going to take a bath."

Kenma watches him go, his chest aching. Turning back to the fridge, he digs around and finds some leftovers. They're a couple days old, but when he tastes it, it seems fine. It's better than anything he can come up with right now, at least. He dumps it into a skillet to warm, frowning down at it. He hates when Kuroo gets like this, when he starts to distance himself. Kenma knows that he probably feels useless, and Kuroo hates that feeling. He always has to do something, take care of someone. He never seems to consider that taking care of himself is also important.

He's running himself ragged with all his classes and volleyball and his part-time job on top of that. And then he comes home to Kenma, and while Kenma does his best to help (he cleans the apartment, does the laundry, makes breakfast since his classes start before Kuroo's so he's up earlier), he still feels like a burden sometimes, especially when Kuroo gets like this and refuses to let Kenma try to comfort him. It's probably his version of "protecting" Kenma from his own depression, but Kenma says "screw that."

He tests the food and determines that it's warm enough. He makes a plate and sets it and two pairs of chopsticks on a tray, carrying it up to the bathroom. He balances the tray on his hip, as he opens the door cautiously. Stepping inside, he looks across to where Kuroo sits in the water, knees drawn up to his chest, forehead resting on them, as his arms wrap listlessly around his shins. His shoulders are bowed like he has the weight of the world on them, and Kenma softly shuts the door, stepping over to place the tray on the edge of the tub.

Kuroo lifts his head, looking at the plate and chopsticks blankly a moment before lifting his gaze to Kenma.

"Dinner in the bath?"

"Why not?" Kenma shrugs, moving to take off his shirt then.

Kuroo watches, lower lip caught between his teeth, as Kenma removes the rest of his clothes. He steps toward the tub then, lifting one foot after the other to get into the water across from Kuroo. The warmth spreads up his legs and hips, as he settles down, and then he reaches for the tray, laying it across the water between them, holding it in place under the water to keep it from sinking. He picks up a pair of chopsticks then, holding it out to Kuroo.

Kuroo looks at it a moment, at the plate, at Kenma's face. Then he straightens his shoulders, lowering his knees to sit cross-legged, and takes the chopsticks.

"Thank you for the food," he says quietly, and begins to eat.

Kenma watches him take a couple bites before picking up the second pair of chopsticks and picking at the food. He eats a few bites, though he leaves the majority of the food to Kuroo. Of course Kuroo realizes this halfway through the plate, and he clicks his chopsticks against Kenma's gently.

"Eat."

"I did."

Kuroo gives him a look. "Eat more."

Kenma rolls his eyes, but he does. Together they clean the plate completely, and Kenma sets the tray down on the floor beside the tub, setting both pairs of chopsticks on top of it. Kuroo watches him silently, before lifting his hand to gently brush Kenma's hair behind his ear, fingers lingering on his jaw.

"Thank you."

"I can take care of you too," Kenma reminds him.

Kuroo grins faintly. "I know."

Kenma scoots closer, reaching up to run his fingers through Kuroo's hair on both sides of his head. He pushes the strands away from his face, revealing both eyes. He pulls Kuroo down slightly in order to press his lips to Kuroo's forehead, sliding his lips down to his nose then, before kissing his mouth. He keeps the kiss tender, a chaste peck really, and Kuroo sighs softly through his nose.

"I don't mean to take anything out on you," Kuroo murmurs, setting his forehead against Kenma's.

"I know." Kenma moves his fingers back through Kuroo's hair, gently scratching his nails against his scalp near his neck.

"I just hate you seeing me like this. So . . . weak."

"You're not weak." Kenma grips his hair tighter a moment before releasing him, taking both cheeks in his hands instead and pushing him back to look him in the eye. He shakes his head then, firmly. "You're not weak."

Kuroo sighs. "All these advanced classes exhaust my brain and then volleyball exhausts me everywhere else. We haven't had sex in ages. I'm forgetting to bring home dinner . . . I'm a terrible boyfriend, really."

Kenma wrinkles his nose. Leaning back, he reaches up to flick Kuroo's nose sharply. He gives a small yelp, rubbing at it.

"Stop."

Kuroo blinks at him, lowering his hand then. He laughs quietly, pressing his finger between Kenma's eyebrows, where the skin is wrinkled in his frown.

"You're angry with me."

"Yes."

"I'm being too hard on myself. That's what you're thinking."

"Yes."

Kuroo shrugs. "I have a lot of expectations riding on me, Kenma. There's a lot of people I'll let down if I don't--"

"I said stop." Kenma grabs his face again, pulling him close as he leans up to kiss him again, this time deeper than the last, effectively cutting him off. Kuroo doesn't protest, however. He simply wraps his arms around Kenma's waist and pulls him closer. Kenma straddles his lap, setting his elbows on his shoulders. He fits his lips around Kuroo's lower one, sucking on the rough skin of it at a leisurely pace. Kuroo moans softly, the vibration of the sound trembling through Kenma's chest, as he pushes against Kuroo more firmly.

Kuroo's hands move up his back, his palms rough from years of blocking volleyballs, yet warmth spreads through Kenma at the touch. He moves his own hands down to the sides of Kuroo's neck, moving them to grip the muscle there at the curve of his shoulder. Kuroo's still tense, Kenma can feel the resistance against his hands. He pulls away from the kiss. Kuroo whines softly in protest, but Kenma stands, stepping out of the tub and gathering his clothes.

"Where are you going?" Kuroo asks.

"Finish bathing. I'll be in your room," Kenma says, setting his clothes on the tray in order to carry them all out of the bathroom.

He leaves his clothes in his room, pulling on only a pair of boxers, before heading to the kitchen to set the tray and plate in the sink with the chopsticks. He goes to Kuroo's bedroom then, searching his shelves for the bottle of essential oil Kuroo bought when his shoulder was bothering him. It was supposed to help warm your muscles, loosen them, so Kenma gets it and sits on the bed, waiting for Kuroo.

He steps into the bedroom a few minutes later, towel slung low around his hips. He blinks at Kenma on the bed, biting his lip.

"Kenma, I'm really tired. I'm sorry, I don't think I can--"

Kenma shakes his head. "Just lay down on your stomach," he says, standing.

Kuroo hesitates only briefly, before moving to climb onto the mattress. With a soft groan, he drops his face into his pillows.

"Fuck," he sighs. "It's only been twelve hours, but I've missed you so much."

He kisses his pillow and Kenma rolls his eyes, fighting a laugh. Clutching the bottle of oil in his hand, he climbs up onto the bed, moving to straddle Kuroo's waist. Kuroo sits up on his elbows, glancing over his shoulder at Kenma with a curious gaze.

"Kenma?"

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." Kenma smirks faintly, before focusing on pouring the oil over his fingers and hands, rubbing them together before reaching down to run his palms over the expanse of Kuroo's back. He moves slowly, spreading his fingers over the warm, still damp skin, over Kuroo's shoulder blades to the curve of them where they meet his neck. He digs his fingers in then, massaging the tension in the muscle.

Kuroo chews on his lip, moving to rest his head back down on the pillows. He continues to watch Kenma over his shoulder for a moment before closing his eyes with a soft sigh.

"You don't have to do this."

"I want to."

A shudder runs through Kuroo's body, but Kenma keeps his ministrations slow and steady. He works the knots near Kuroo's neck before moving further down and across on either side. He presses his knuckles against particularly firm spots, and Kuroo groans when he does. Other than that, the room is quiet. Kenma's heartbeat begins to quicken. It _has_ been a while since they've done anything sexual. With their schedules they only have a few hours together in the evening before Kenma has to go to bed in order to wake up in time to make breakfast before his first class. And with Kuroo under so much pressure lately, he's been too tired to initiate anything.

So it's been some time since Kenma's been able to touch him like this. His face burns, as he moves his hands lower, spreading his thumbs firmly against the muscles near his spine, working them down to the dip of his lower back above the towel. The oil has caused Kuroo's skin to glisten, and it glows faintly in the orange light from the lamp on the bedside table. His breathing is deep, even, and Kenma can tell he's relaxed since he first lay down. He shifts his hands back up near Kuroo's neck, repeating the same process, and the muscles are looser than before.

"Your hands feel so good, Kenma," Kuroo murmurs drowsily.

Kenma swallows hard. He can feel his body responding to those words, that burning, aching need settling low in his stomach. Testing the waters, he moves one hand down, setting it against Kuroo's hip, before wiggling it beneath him, between him and the sheets, reaching until he comes in contact with hot, slick skin. Kuroo's hips twitch, and he lifts his head, propping himself up on his elbow to glance back at Kenma.

"Ah, yes. That did happen," he admits, grinning sheepishly.

Kenma maintains eye contact, as he slowly moves his hand further down, wrapping it around the hardened length and giving it an experimental tug. Kuroo inhales sharply, the skin of his cheeks darkening with a faint blush.

"Ah, Kenma, you don't have to-- _ah!_ "

Kenma smirks, as he relaxes his hand. "Stop telling me I don't have to do things I obviously want to do," he says, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. He releases Kuroo and scoots closer to him, bending to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "You don't have to be the only one taking care of everyone else. Let me take care of you, Kuro. You deserve it."

Kuroo swallows hard, watching his face for a moment before nodding, breathing a sigh. "Okay."

Kenma pushes against his shoulder gently, turning him back onto his stomach. He gets off him then, shedding his boxers and shivering as the air hits his already half-hard length. He pulls away Kuroo's towel, setting it aside, and moves behind him once more. He bends, kissing the top of Kuroo's spine at the nape of his neck. Slowly, he presses gentle kisses down the line of his back despite the oil that dampens his lips. His fingers are still slick with it, so he reaches down between them, slowly rubbing his index finger against Kuroo's entrance, massaging the puckered skin, as Kuroo buries his face deeper into the pillows with a low groan. He lifts his hips off the bed slightly, and Kenma meets him by inserting his finger gently.

That familiar tight heat encases the digit, and Kuroo's breathing quickens. Kenma sits up, reaching with his free hand to stroke Kuroo's hair, running his fingers through the strands before tracing small soothing circles against his back. He thrusts his finger slowly, Kuroo rolling his hips in time with Kenma's movements. Though it's been a while, they fall into sync almost immediately, and Kenma presses in a second finger, stretching the hole wider, pushing against the walls until Kuroo groans. His hips still a moment, and Kenma waits, pressing another kiss to the back of Kuroo's shoulder.

"Okay," Kuroo mutters after a moment.

Kenma breathes quietly against Kuroo's skin, resting his forehead against its warmth, as he begins to scissor his fingers, pushing in and out, falling into rhythm with the rock of Kuroo's hips once more. His own erection has started to throb, aching for attention, and he begins to almost unconsciously rub himself against the top of Kuroo's ass. He sets his teeth against Kuroo's back, panting at the friction, and he can feel himself leaking over Kuroo's skin.

Kuroo groans, fingers flexing in his sheets, gripping them. Kenma straightens, carefully pressing in a third finger. Kuroo inhales shakily, his movements stilling once more. Kenma waits, sitting back on his heels, and then Kuroo exhales, his thighs quivering. Kenma sits up on his knees then, grabbing Kuroo's hip with his free hand to lift his lower half off the bed. Kuroo complies, tucking his knees under him, back bowed inward. Kenma starts his thrusts with his fingers again, now actively searching for Kuroo's prostate. He moves his other hand down to wrap around Kuroo's member, feeling the pre-cum leaking from the swollen head. He gives it a gentle squeeze, and Kuroo gasps, a shudder running through his body. 

"Kenma," he moans, his voice partially muffled by the pillow. Kenma curls his fingers gently, stroking them lightly against Kuroo's prostate, and Kuroo trembles again, his voice cracking as he releases another " _Kenma_."

Kenma's body is burning. Kuroo looks good like this, he can't deny that. Bent before Kenma, quivering, his erection dripping over his hand . . . Kenma swallows hard, unable to keep from rocking his hips down and then up, dragging the tip of his own leaking member along the back of Kuroo's thigh, leaving a trail of white. He presses his fingers against the spot, harder this time, and Kuroo cries out, his body tensing, clenching around Kenma's fingers.

"Fuck, _Kenma!_ "

That fire burns hotter inside Kenma, and he pulls his fingers out, not wanting to wait any longer. He shuffles toward the edge of the bed on his knees, reaching over to the bedside table to open the drawer and grab the lube he knows is there. He comes back then, clicking open the top and spreading the cool gel over himself with a soft hiss. He quickly moves to position himself, sliding his hands up the sides of Kuroo's thighs to his hips.

"Kuro," he murmurs, taking a moment just to appreciate the lean, muscular body beneath him. Sometimes he wonders what he did to deserve such a beautiful best friend and boyfriend. He can't think of anything, but he's grateful nonetheless.

He grasps his erection, lining himself up with Kuroo's entrance, before slowly pressing against the resistance, until his tip pushes past it. The heat and pressure cause him to tremble, and he pauses, gripping Kuroo's hips in his hands. Kuroo groans, arching his back and shoving his hips closer to Kenma's, forcing Kenma in deeper. Kenma gasps, clutching Kuroo's hips tighter to stop him.

"K-Kuro," he pants, his head swimming with the pleasure. 

His body feels too hot, he's burning all over, but Kuroo lifts himself up on his hands, glancing over his shoulder at Kenma. His eyes are dark, molten gold glazed over with lust. He's panting through parted lips, and he gives Kenma a quick nod.

"I need you," he says, his voice breaking on the words.

_I need you too._

Kenma pushes in the rest of the way. Kuroo ducks his head, gripping the sheets. His body quivers, and Kenma leans down to press another kiss against Kuroo's spine. "I love you," he murmurs into the skin, before shifting his hips back and pushing forward once more in a shallow thrust. 

"Fuck," Kuroo gasps.

Kenma rests his forehead against Kuroo's back, making another small thrust. His own body is trembling now, that fire burning through his veins, throbbing, aching. He straightens slowly, looking down over Kuroo's back. He moves one hand to stroke along the length of it, as he begins to rock his hips in a steady rhythm, breath catching in his throat. 

Kuroo moves his hips back against him, meeting his thrusts, moaning his name. Kenma's face feels hot, and he's glad Kuroo can't see it. His thighs shake, but he continues to move, pushing harder once they relax into their rhythm. He gasps for breath, soft "Kuros" and "ahs" falling from his lips. He begins thrust faster, losing himself in the pleasure of Kuroo's body. Keeping one hand to steady himself on Kuroo's back, he moves the other back to grasp Kuroo's length, which is dumping pre-cum profusely now. He gathers the liquid and uses it to run his palm up and down the hot skin quickly. Kuroo buckles at this added sensation, dropping to his elbows, pressing his forehead against the pillows as he cries out.

Kenma's hips begin to stutter, fall out of rhythm, as his body stiffens. He can feel his climax quickly approaching, and he shoves harder, hips slapping against Kuroo's ass, and Kuroo's voice breaks again.

"Kenma! Fuck!"

Knowing he's hit the right spot now, Kenma drives in against Kuroo's prostate again and again. Kuroo bites into his pillow, stifling his cries, and Kenma's movements on his member grow sloppy, his hand sliding up and down in jerky tugs. His heart is hammering, thudding out of his chest, and Kenma closes his eyes, mouth dropping open, as a broken cry escapes, and he comes inside of Kuroo. Sparks of pleasure shoot through him, shaking him from head to toe, and when the white clears, he slows to a stop, gasping.

He realizes through his haze, however, that Kuroo still hasn't climaxed, so he pulls out and quickly turns him over. Kuroo's face is flushed, his hair sticking to his forehead. He parts his lips, possibly to ask what Kenma's doing (or tell him he doesn't have to worry about finishing him off), but Kenma silences him with a heated kiss, delving into his mouth hungrily. Kuroo groans, wrapping his arm around Kenma to hold him close, and Kenma grasps his length once more, jerking on it quickly, as he finds purchase on Kuroo's tongue and sucks on it hard and fast. Kuroo's moans are muffled by his mouth, but he quivers, chest heaving, and it's only a few seconds later that he's arching his back and coming over Kenma's hand between their stomachs. Kenma swallows up his cry, though he slows his suction on Kuroo's tongue, relaxing finally now that Kuroo's finished.

Gradually he pulls back, propping himself up to look down at Kuroo's face. He brushes his hair back to see his face, though Kuroo's eyes are still closed. He's panting quickly, and Kenma's own heart is still pounding away. He places a tiny kiss on Kuroo's chin, watches Kuroo smile at the contact.

"I'm going to need another bath, aren't I?" he asks with a breathless laugh.

Kenma glances down between them at the mess. Sitting up slowly, he makes his way to the bathroom on unsteady legs. He's tired, and all he wants to do now is sleep, but he rinses off his hand and torso and grabs a washcloth. After wetting it, he returns to the bedroom where Kuroo is still lying on his back with his eyes closed. Kenma tugs at the dirty sheets until Kuroo groans and lifts up enough for Kenma to pull them off the bed and onto the floor to wash later. He climbs up onto the mattress then and begins to clean Kuroo off with gentle strokes of the washcloth.

"Thank you," Kuroo murmurs after a moment.

Kenma glances at his face, but his eyes remain shut. Heat returns to his cheeks, and he turns back to what he's doing. "It's just so you don't have to get up again."

"That's not what I mean. Not fully at least." Kuroo opens his eyes to look up at Kenma. "I mean for tonight. For the dinner and your words and--"

Kenma bends down to cut him off with a quick kiss, embarrassed. When he pulls back, Kuroo is smiling.

"Stay with me tonight?" he asks, reaching up to run the back of his knuckle down Kenma's arm.

Kenma nods. He tosses the washcloth onto the sheet on the floor, before lying back down beside Kuroo, pressing close to his side despite the heat still lingering on their skin. He nuzzles his face against Kuroo's chest, before sighing contentedly, exhaustion setting in quickly. Kuroo wraps his arm around Kenma's shoulders and lightly strokes his fingers up and down Kenma's arm until they both fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> http://shions-heart.tumblr.com/


End file.
